Emily, I have something inspiring to say about various math teachers I've had in the past, except that I'm way too tired at the moment to give it the full treatment. Just remember that this year, you are on a learning curve. You WILL feel inadequate sometimes. But you WILL be learning by experience, and you WILL make changes and get things together in the long run. It sucks that you have to go through this now, but the end product - a great math teacher - is worth the pain and frustration. My math teachers not only taught me about the magic of numbers, but also taught me how to assemble a sensible notebook on any topic, gave me confidence (If I can learn algebra/trig/calc/stats, I can learn anything), taught me that sometimes a hard-earned C means more than an easy A, taught me how to ask for help, taught me how to stick with things I think I don't like and get satisfaction from them anyway. You WILL be doing the same things for some of your students. This is a precious gift, and like the pain of childbirth, once the pain of your first year is over, SO WORTH IT.
Oh, heavens, do I wish I could find all my old math teachers and tell them how much they meant to me. Emily, I swear by all that is Buffista, twenty years from now, someone is going to be saying these same things, and wishing they could contact YOU to say them to you.
I had one- pre something calc or algebra- who not only taught me stuff I use to this day, but was also kind enough to let me hang out in his room when I couldn't face lunch.
A toast: To teachers!
New hair: [link]
exhales slowly and deliberately
Yeah.
Emily, you've got excellent teachers giving you great advice. All I can say from a parental perspective is that one of my harder, and most necessary, lessons was that kids (a) desperately need to know somebody is setting the boundaries and; (b) grow by testing those boundaries constantly.
Which is why my whole three-pronged parenting philosphy boils down to the intuitive (1) keep them alive; (2) love them a lot; and [perhaps counter-intuitively] (3) enforce boundaries.
It's the hardest fucking thing but respect flows from it.
Tummy meds helped tummy - good. Tummy meds made me slow and paranoid - less good. Flopped Kittenish on the chenille throw on my feet - quite good. Life is a series of cost/benefit analysis. Also a series of correcting typos.
Also a series of correcting typos.
Tell the drunk girl about it.
Tell the drunk girl about it.
It's this thing where you think you know what you want to say and then your fingers are suddenly acting like ice-skating monkeys and then you can't even remember what you were going to type even if you could get the letters to appear on the screen in a reasonably accurate order.
It's like that.
Or like being really, really unpleasantly stoned.
A toast: To teachers!
For real.
Here's to all the unwaveringly patient souls that put up with my scatterbrained tigger-like bouncing ADHD learning style during my 20+ years of schooling...
:: raises a glass ::
Slainté, teachers!
Exactly like that, or getting hit in the head with a large gold brick wrapped in a lemon skin.
Here's to all the unwaveringly patient souls that put up with my scatterbrained tigger-like bouncing ADHD learning style during my 20+ years of schooling...
Are you saying that ended with the end of school?
t runs away
